


the pursuit of fratiness

by kay_emm_gee



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Exes, F/M, Fraternities & Sororities, Rivalry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2018-09-21 07:02:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9537068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kay_emm_gee/pseuds/kay_emm_gee
Summary: Two households, both alike in fraternity,in fair Carolina, where we lay our scene,from freshman grudge break to new mutinywhere civil words are far and few between....{ or, a rival fraternity/sorority au feat. bellamy+clarke and roan+luna }





	1. i. luna

Toilet paper blew in the wind, and Luna sighed. The Delta Phi house was covered in streams and strands of the stuff, thanks to the boys at Kappa Rho Gamma. It was only the second week of the spring semester, and already they were throwing down the gauntlet. Poorly, but this act was still an opening shot.  


“This is just pathetic,” Raven scoffed by her side.

Luna shot her a look. “I agree–”

“–but we’re not going to do anything about it,” Raven finished flatly. Her little knew her too well.

She just turned her attention back to the prank and shrugged. “It wouldn’t deter them anyways.”

Raven tensed, as if she wanted to argue, then just threw her hands up in the air and stalked off towards the group of younger Delta Phi sisters huddled by the sidewalk. Breathing out slowly, Luna repeated her own words in her head. As long as no one was hurt, the university turned a blind eye to pranks between houses. Even if they did get involved, the fact that the son of Nia Asgott–an NHL team owner and significant university donor–was president of Kappa Rho would make official intervention improbable.

Luna glanced over at raised voices coming from the girls. Two of the recently instated pledges–Octavia and Clarke–were arguing with Raven. She had to hold back rolling her eyes. This year’s new sisters were enthusiastic about Delta Phi, which was good, but sometimes to an aggressive degree. With all the needling that Kappa Rho did towards them last semester, her sisters were at their breaking point. Despite that, Luna wasn’t about to engage.

Not with Kappa Rho, not with Roan, not again.

With a sigh, Luna trudged over to diffuse the tension and make plans to clean up their house. Octavia was indignant at hearing her decision to ignore the provocation, and Clarke considered her with narrow eyes.

“As the last president, Lexa may have upheld a different stance, but we don’t need to fight back,” she declared sharply. “We’re the better house–they know it, we know it. We have nothing to prove.” She looked each of her sister’s in the eye, making sure they understood: no retaliation whatsoever. No one contradicted her final word because, after all, she was still president. “Now let’s get this cleaned up, and then go out to the Early Bird.”

The girls perked up at that, and Luna smiled at them before getting to work.  


	2. ii. bellamy

Bellamy made his way through the crowded campus pub and put his drink on the table. His sister glanced at him pointedly, and Clarke, who was right next to her, downright scowled.

“What are you doing?” Octavia demanded.

“Visiting my favorite baby sister,” he cooed, then leaned over and tried to crush her head in a hug. She elbowed his side, and he pulled away laughing. “What, too _old_ for that now?”

“You know what you did,” she sniffed.

He rolled his eyes. “Take it easy. That was nothing.”

“Did you spend _your_ Saturday morning stuffing wet toilet paper into trash bags?” Clarke snapped.

Grinning, he leaned farther on the table, which made her tense and him grin wider. Pledges were the most fun to rile, and it took next to nothing from him to raise her hackles in particular. Bellamy didn’t know whether to be wary or pleased with that fact. “You know what they say, can’t take the heat…”

He stared at Clarke a little harder, and though it was hard in the dim light of Grounders, he thought he saw the faintest trace of pink in her cheeks. Before he could push her buttons further, however, Octavia punched his arm.

“Get out of here before they start calling us traitors,” his sister muttered.

Sighing dramatically, he straightened up from the tiny hightop. “That’s what I get for trying to bond with my sibling.”

Octavia snorted, but she let him pull her in for a hug around the shoulders and a sloppy kiss to the temple. He had only taken a few steps away when Clarke called after him.

“Hey Blake.”

He looked over his shoulder to find her looking at him with a lifted chin and determined eyes. When she didn’t immediately continue, Bellamy raised his eyebrows. Clarke narrowed her gaze before declaring, “Pool table in thirty minutes. Best out of three rounds.”

The corner of his mouth lifted up at the sheer amount of confidence in her voice. He heard Octavia whistle low, and he noticed that some other row members had heard her challenge. His pulse jumped, and she didn’t even waver as he pretended to consider his response.

Finally, he shrugged. “You’re on, princess.”

He turned back around, not stopping at hearing her sputter behind him. A few of his brothers clapped him on the back as he headed back to his group of senior friends at the bar. When he reached them, Miller smirked, but Murphy just looked bored.

Roan was the only one to actually comment on the interaction. “Well, that was just damn adorable.”

Bellamy flipped him off and stole a sip of Miller’s beer. “I don’t need a warning, pops. I think I can handle my sister’s friends. Even if they’re Deltas.”

Roan just smiled slowly, but something harder flashed in his eyes. Bellamy didn’t say more. He was one of the few who knew why the Kappa Rho president avoided any type of positive interaction with Delta Phi. Still, his sister belonged to that house now, and although he would still happily contribute to their houses’ rivalry, total avoidance was no longer an option. Roan would just have to fucking deal.

So a half hour later, he drained the last of a beer and headed over to the pool table area. He had a blonde to thoroughly show up, after all.


	3. iii. clarke

Grinning, Clarke emptied the last of the whipped cream into the jumbo-size plastic bag. She quickly fit Bellamy’s pillowcase around it, tucking in the ends to hide the surprise inside. After adjusting it on the bed and stuffing the actual pillow into the closet, she turned to go. The Kappas would be back from their mandatory volunteering afternoon soon, and she had no intention of getting caught in the act of pranking.

The whipped cream was her idea, though it had been Harper and Monroe who perfected the technique. Octavia had a stroke of brilliance to upgrade baby powder on ceiling fan blades to glitter–blue, of course, for Delta Phi. To top it off, they had greased the bedroom floors, because something was needed to make the glitter stick. That idea had come from Raven, who was eavesdropping one night and apparently couldn’t hold onto her Luna-enforced neutrality any longer.

_Best let the pro in on this one_ , she declared after barging into their room and nearly giving both her and Octavia heart attacks. She wasn’t wrong, though, because in addition to helping them evade Luna, she also managed to rewire the Kappa Rho house so that a flip of one light switch turned on all the fans at once for peak destructive power.

It was genius, really, and Clarke was giddy at the thought. Taking one more look around Bellamy’s room to make sure everything was just so, she found herself really noticing it for the first time. It was plain, economical, tidy. His desk was bare except for a pen holder, an assignment book, and a photo of his mother and Octavia, and there wasn’t any other furniture besides the bed and bookcase.

It was the bookcase that caught her eye, even as she heard the girls calling for her downstairs. While everything else was bare minimum, these shelves were crammed full. Vertical, sideways, diagonal: whichever way they fit, the books went. All of the spines were worn or cracked, and there were small post-its sticking up from the pages of most of them. She didn’t recognize many of the authors, but she reached out and grabbed one anyways. As she thumbed through it, the text wasn’t what caught her eye–it was the red pen in the margins, messy and emotive and clearly all Bellamy. He was in turn sarcastic and thoughtful, and his dry, insightful critiques made her smile.

“Whatcha doing?”

Clarke jumped, whipping around to see Raven peering in the doorway. Her fellow Delta Phi raised her eyebrows, clearly suspicious of what was taking her so long.

“It fell off the shelf,” she responded while waving the book. “He’s a hoarder.”

The skeptical look Raven gave her matched the one from earlier when Clarke claimed pranking Bellamy’s room. “Mmkay. Sure.”

“I’m coming down, right now,” Clarke promised, with an encouraging smile.

Raven snorted. “You better. Otherwise I’m going to have to come get you again, and I don’t need to catching you sniffing his shirts because you want to know how dreamy he smells.”

Clarke flipped her off, but Raven just chuckled and disappeared down the hall. With a sigh of relief, Clarke shoved the book back into place. She was almost to the door when she paused and looked back at the bookshelf. Deciding quickly, she rushed to the closet, pulled out a sheet she spotted earlier when hiding his pillow, and threw it over the bookshelf. It was an impressive collection, after all, and it would be a shame to ruin it with glitter.

When Clarke arrived downstairs, Octavia and Raven were waiting for her. With a wink, her roommate scurried out the back door. Clarke went to follow, but Raven tugging up her shirt and patting her down stopped her.

“Just making sure you didn’t steal a pair of his underwear,” she said cheekily.

Clarke’s response was to spray her in the face with whipped cream and then run like hell to avoid retribution.


	4. iv. roan

 From the growing number of voices in the room, Roan knew the Greek board meeting would be starting soon. Even so, he kept on dozing. With his head tilted back even farther than his propped chair, and his arms crossed tight over his chest he would stay that way until the final gavel banged. The only thing these meetings were good for was napping.

“Excuse me,” someone to his right said.

He didn’t move, not an inch. They repeated it, but he still didn’t move. Rather, he let out a loud snoring sound through his nose. The person huffed before retreating. No one else tried to get by in the next few minutes, and Roan let himself drift off even farther. After the 2 AM poker game last night, he needed the sleep.

Just as he was almost there, Roan suddenly felt his chair jerk. He didn’t flinch, only tensed. Then he slowly lifted his head from its backward tilt and cracked his eyes open. Through that small sliver of sight, he glanced right and then left but saw no one. With an irritated sigh, he leaned back again. He dropped off just as the president called the meeting to order, only to be woken as his chair tipped violently forward. 

He grunted loudly as he fell, interrupting roll call. As he pushed himself up, he sensed all eyes turned to him, but all he could really focus on was Luna sitting behind him. She stared straight ahead, the only one not looking at him, and her lips were pressed together, as if she was holding back a laugh.

“We hadn’t gotten to you yet, but glad to know you’re here,” Ontari snapped, grabbing his attention. She glared at him from her seat at the front and center of the room.

Roan smirked at her, then flipped her off. She ignored him and simply continued on calling names as if she was a general summoning her soldiers. As he settled back into his seat, he rolled his eyes. Why his mother chose to mentor her, of all girls from her former house, he would never know. Maybe just to piss him off–he wouldn’t put that past her.

When Ontari finally stopped scathingly glances his way, Roan finally turned around. Luna did not move her gaze an inch, apparently finding their president riveting.

“I’ll take that as an official declaration,” he murmured.

Her eyes flicked to him for a moment, then back to the front. “What?”

“A declaration of war,” he drawled quietly.

This time when Luna looked at him, her focus stayed. Her mouth pursed, in that way when she was really trying not to like something against her better judgement. She used to look at him like that all the time. “What.”

With a half-smile, Roan winked at her. “Heard you weren’t giving your approval for the skirmishes between our houses, but I’ll take your little love tap as a sign that you’re now on board.”

“I didn’t kick your chair.”

He smiled at her in triumph. “You always were a terrible liar.” At his words, he noticed her expression tighten, and he knew she was remembering. He kept that smile on his face, even as he started to remember as well. “See you on the battlefield, Luna.”

As Roan turned back around, he felt the absolute slightest vibration of his chair, as if someone had kicked it, but just barely. He closed his eyes and laughed under his breath, trying to think of new plans of revenge instead of the sudden release of tension in his chest.


End file.
